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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466262">all i want is to see you smile</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunscreams/pseuds/sunscreams'>sunscreams</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Falling In Love, Fluff, Inspired by Aesthetics, Inspired by Decades, M/M, Sappy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:07:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunscreams/pseuds/sunscreams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance had fallen in love with the idea of a romantic love story before he even really understood what romantic love was. He loved old-time-y black and white romances, silly rom-coms, and the way his parents gazed at each other. He loved how each pair of lovers interacted, their eyes fond and voices fonder—like they were constantly falling in love with each other. Lance noticed the little things about love that made him ache for it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>all i want is to see you smile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has been in my drafts since the dawn of time and I finally finished it. Please listen to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3-81iaFAbqO3HrnQHSgXyFIu1O6347wo">Rumours by Fleetwood Mac</a> while reading this. It will seriously enhance the experience, trust me. Title is from "Don't Stop" but Fleetwood Mac on this album.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <em>60’s - kisses on the hand, soft acoustics, keeping a journal under the pillow, walks in the rain, old films, a bouquet of roses at the doorstep, secret love letters, old newspaper articles, talking to the moon</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Lance has always been a romantic. He'd learned from old-time-y black and white romances, silly rom-coms and the way his parents gazed at each other. He noticed little things about love that made him ache for it. Like how time seemed to slow down during first meetings in rom-coms, or how beautiful orchestral music played every time they saw each other, or how his parents danced in their kitchen, the old radio crackling on the countertop.</p>
<p>Lance loved how each pair of lovers interacted, their eyes fond and voices fonder—like they were constantly falling in love with each other.</p>
<p>Lance had fallen in love with the idea of a romantic love story before he even really understood what romantic love was. When he was thirteen, he started keeping a journal—not a diary—under his pillow. He’d write down every single romantic idea he had, every dream of romance he could ever think of, in the hopes that one day he’d be lucky enough to live them</p>
<p>He wrote about secret love letters hidden in between the pages of library books, written in a code only the two of them understood. He wrote about a warm hand in his as they walked through a park close to midnight, bundled under a big umbrella as rain poured from the sky and soft French music played. He wrote about rose petals lining the floor, leading to where he would stand, outside with a full bouquet and a proposal on his tongue. He wrote about peering over newspapers, sending flirty smiles to someone as they sent winks over a cup of coffee.</p>
<p>Lance was a romantic, and he was unafraid of the drawbacks of love.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>70’s - gentle hum of the radio, rose gardens, soft filters, yellow tinted sunglasses, fuzzy sunlight on a meadow, perfumes on silk, pearl earrings, ladybird on an eyelid, french literature</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>They’d met on a warm, sunny, summer afternoon in a tiny record shop filled with more dust than actual records. Lance was slumped behind the counter, absently popping bubbles in his chewing gum as he flipped through a French magazine he couldn’t read. It had come in with a shipment of French Indie records—along with a pair of yellow Lennon sunglasses that were perched on the end of his upturned nose—and although Lance couldn’t really read what the magazine said, the pictures were just so busy and honestly kind of nice to look at that Lance didn’t even mind not being able to read the articles. It was, after all, something he could focus on to pass the time.</p>
<p>It was hot, and the breeze that was blowing through the open window seemed to be kicking up more dust than alleviating any sort of heat, and while the French magazine was beautiful to look at, it could probably work better as a fan.</p>
<p>And just as Lance was leaning back in the shitty brown upholstered swivel-stool behind the counter, a man walked in.</p>
<p><em>The</em> man walked in.</p>
<p>He was wearing a simple black t-shirt under a red leather jacket, paired with a pair of black jeans that were rolled up to show a pair of lovingly scuffed biker boots. His hair was long and dark, curling around his ears attractively, in a decidedly mullet-like fashion. He had a helmet propped under one arm as he browsed through the rows of new and used records. Lance couldn’t help sliding the yellow sunglasses down his nose to get a better look at the handsome stranger.</p>
<p>Damn, even his skin was perfect.</p>
<p>This guy was attractive. More attractive, Lance thought, than the super hot and super weird ladies in the French magazine.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Lance said, popping a bubble in his chewing gum as he stared at the man over his yellow sunglasses, “You lookin’ for something?”</p>
<p>The man startled, his head whipping over to Lance as if he hadn’t seen him when he walked in. “Uh,” the man fumbled, looking around the store as if he was just now realizing where he was. “No, I’m fine,” he ducked his head down and shuffled a little farther into the store.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Lance mumbled, moving to lean back in his shitty stool, letting the glasses slide back into place, “Just let me know if you need anything.”</p>
<p>“Right,” the man grumbled a little. He was silent for a moment, pausing between rows of Techno-Pop and Indie Acoustics. “Actually, I am kind of looking for something,” the man whirled around, kicking up dust into the afternoon air.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Lance dragged out the word, “What are you looking for?”</p>
<p>The man pursed his lips, looked every right like he just swallowed an entire lemon, before he huffed irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Nevermind, this is dumb,” he sighed and made to leave.</p>
<p>“Hey, wait,” Lance said, leaning forward, “Just wait a second.” This is the first customer that Lance had seen all day, and he’d be damned if he just let this edgelord leave without at least looking at a record first. And really, Lance is a simple man; all he wanted was to be able to look at this beautiful stranger for a little while longer.</p>
<p>“Look, man,” Lance hopped off his stool, moving around the counter towards the man, “My job is to help people find records, and if you’re gonna leave without allowing me to at least try to give you a hand, then, well, what sort of record store worker would I be?”</p>
<p>The man’s cheek twitched into what could maybe be considered a half-smile, “Probably a pretty bad one.”</p>
<p>Lance’s cheek twitched into what could definitely be called a grin, “Exactly! Now tell me what you’re looking for.”</p>
<p>The man paused, half-smile melting, “Don’t laugh.”</p>
<p>“I’m not going to laugh,” Lance rolled his eyes, “Unless you’re looking for, like, I don’t know, WHAM’s entire discography or something.”</p>
<p>“Wh—no, I’m not really looking for—” The man started and stopped, and started again, “Look, I don’t know why, but something told me to come in here. Some…energy or something, I don’t know, but I’m here.” He stopped then, fully, looking at the ground, a weird flush falling across the tops of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “I don’t even own a record player,” he mumbled to the ground.</p>
<p>Lance was silent for a moment, not really sure how to process what the man in front of him just said. “Something…told you?” Lance mumbled, a little more than confused.</p>
<p>The man said nothing then, just shrunk down into himself a little more, refusing to look at Lance. The guy looked pitiful; like he himself couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth. And maybe he didn’t believe it, really, but what else are you supposed to do in a nowhere town when you get a weird feeling? Ignore it? Unlikely.</p>
<p>Maybe that’s why Lance sighed and said, “Okay, I don’t know what told you to come in here, but I have a record player up front and I’m pretty good and helping people find music they like, so maybe we can start there.”</p>
<p>The man’s eyes were a beautiful glittering purple when they flew up to meet Lance’s. “What?”</p>
<p>“Okay, you got me, my music taste is pretty sub-par, but like, I’m versatile,” Lance levelled a charming smile at the man in front of him, still way out of his depth.</p>
<p>“You-you don’t think I’m crazy?” The man mumbled, his eyebrows pulling together, confusion crowding over the hope hidden deep within his purple eyes.</p>
<p>“Nah, two seconds ago I was reading a French Hipster magazine, and let me tell you, anything you do can’t even touch their crazy.” Lance shot a thumb over his shoulder to where said magazine sat abandoned on the counter.</p>
<p>The man just stared at Lance for a second. Lance sighed, shoulders drooping, “Look, I don’t know what you mean when you say an energy brought you here, but if you believe it, then who am I to question the mystics of the world?”</p>
<p>For a moment, the only sound in the shop was the soft droning of an Indie French cover-band, the only movement the slow dance of dust in the warm, yellow afternoon air. “The name’s Lance, take it or leave it,” Lance finally broke the pseudo-silence and stuck out a hand as an olive branch.</p>
<p>The man just stared for a moment, before he slotted his fingerless-gloved hand into Lance’s, “Keith.”</p>
<p>And that, was that.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>80’s - potted plants on the balcony, stargazing with your best friend, dusty video games, old coffee shops, bike rides to the lake, revisiting childhood nostalgia, flower-embroidered sleeves</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Lance couldn’t stop tapping the top of the dark mahogany table he was sitting at, his foot bouncing incessantly, his barely touched iced coffee sitting next to him bouncing in its plastic container. The small coffee shop was mostly empty save for a few people typing away at MacBooks and tired baristas pretending not to be tapping away at cellphones. Lance knew he was ten minutes early, but with every second that passed, he couldn’t help but feel like Keith was ten hours late, and it was really doing disastrous things to his heart.</p>
<p>It was their first date, so really, no one should blame Lance for being so antsy.</p>
<p>It was then that the bell above the door chimed and Keith walked in and up to the counter to order a drink. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, ripped at the knees and an adorable black hoodie with roses embroidered on the sleeves.</p>
<p>It was then, that Lance knew he was perfect.</p>
<p>Not knowing what else to do, Lance stood from the table, trying to discreetly wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans, a smile breaking over his cheeks.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Lance said, a huge smile taking over his face.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Keith said back, a shy smile warming his face.</p>
<p>They stood there for a second, both with their arms by their sides, both smiling at each other, just staring. Finally, Lance broke their staring contest, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, and ducking his head down a little to hide his goofy grin because <em>holy shit Keith showed up!</em></p>
<p>“Um, do you wanna sit down?” Lance motioned to the table, a little stilted, but entirely pleased.</p>
<p>“Sure,” Keith said, his shy smile morphing into something a little more outgoing as he took a seat opposite Lance.</p>
<p>After a few moments, Lance broke the silence with, “So, how’ve you been?”</p>
<p>Keith ducked his head in a little, nervous, adorable nod, “I’ve been pretty good,” he cleared his throat, a small smile broke over his face, “I actually just got a job. It’s pretty awesome.”</p>
<p>“What?” Lance exclaimed, “That’s awesome! Where’re you working?”</p>
<p>“I scored a job at Done Right Mechanics, and I really like it there,” Keith admitted, tapping his fingers on the table to a beat only he can hear.</p>
<p>“Nice!” Lance cheered, “I’ll be sure to bring my old car down soon then. Have you take a look at her.”</p>
<p>“For sure,” Keith nods, a smile warming his face.</p>
<p>It was then that a barista walked up. “Green tea with honey?” She asked, holding up a coffee cup as she stood beside their table.</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Keith reached up and took the tea form her. The barista nodded, and then walked off.</p>
<p>“You don’t strike me as a green tea with honey type of guy,” Lance said, nodding in Keith’s direction.</p>
<p>Keith paused, sending Lance a look, “What does that mean?”</p>
<p>Lance shrugged, “I don’t know.” Lance rubbed the back of his neck, “You just strike me as the type of guy who takes his coffee black, like his soul.”</p>
<p>Keith rolled his eyes and continued to blow on it gently, “I don’t like coffee.”</p>
<p>“But I take it you like tea?” Lance teased.</p>
<p>“Green tea with honey,” Keith teased back.</p>
<p>The boys stared at each other for a few beats, their smiles hidden behind to-go cups.</p>
<p>Keith cleared his throat and his eyes flickered away for a moment. “Hey,” he said.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Lance hummed.</p>
<p>“Wanna get outta here?” Keith tapped a finger on the side of his tea.</p>
<p>“What do you have in mind?”</p>
<p>“Just trust me,” Keith sent Lance this earnest look; his thick, dark eyebrows crooked attractively, and his indigo eyes shining, and his pink lips turned up at the corners. How could Lance say no?</p>
<p>“Okay,” Lance nodded, a little shakily, “Okay, I trust you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Keith,” Lance stopped his bike, placing his foot on the ground in front of the run down building in front of him, “This place has been closed for like three years.”</p>
<p>Keith hopped off the back of Lance’s bike, his black vans crunching the gavel under his feet. “It’s open. Just trust me,” and with that, Keith started walking up to the old arcade centre, seemingly abandoned over three years ago.</p>
<p>Lance sighed, pushing his bike up against the crumbling brick facade, only to follow after Keith.</p>
<p>Keith waited at the door, and when Lance was beside him, Keith sent him this smirk—mischievous, and boyish, and sexy—before he grabbed the rusted out handle and shoved his entire body weight against it. The door burst open, a cloud of dust blooming into the air as Keith broke into the abandoned arcade centre.</p>
<p>“Okay, so, I lied,” Keith shrugged a little, laugher stringing his words along. “This place isn’t open, but all the games still work and it’s free now.”</p>
<p>Lance felt a laugh bubble out of him. “How did you even find this place?” Lance coughed on the dust, “It’s been boarded up for years.”</p>
<p>“I was just wandering one night and—” Keith cut himself off with a sigh. “I don’t know. There’s no version of this story where I’m not breaking and entering so…” he trailed off.</p>
<p>Lance shook his head, felt another laugh bubble up, and said, “No, it’s okay. I’m surprised no one has looted the place yet.”</p>
<p>Keith rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”</p>
<p>“Arcade games are super valuable,” they both said it at the same time. Their eyes met, and they both released peals of laughter.</p>
<p>Lance looked around at the rows and rows of dust covered games, their bright colours and flashing lights dimmed over time. Lance spotted an ancient looking Atari machine, its white, red and blue design sticking out as something especially precious. “So, they all work?” Lance asked his fingers itching to play a dust-covered Street Fighter game.</p>
<p>“Mhm,” Keith hummed, “I just have to go flip the breaker.”</p>
<p>“Where’s the breaker?” Lance asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.</p>
<p>Keith glanced over at Lance before he sighed, rocked on his heels and looked away. “Oh, you know, in the super creepy basement,” Keith said, completely unfazed.</p>
<p>“Um,” Lance said, “Right.” Lance felt his skin begin to crawl. “You’re, um, you’re good to go alone, right?”</p>
<p>“No,” Keith shook his head, “The breaker is this huge lever in the ground. Not really sure why, but I’m definitely gonna need help if I’m gonna be able to turn it on.” Keith turned to Lance, a blank look on his face, “You’re not afraid, are you?”</p>
<p>Lance scoffed, “Me, afraid? Please.” Lance said this, like, you know, a liar.</p>
<p>Keith kind of shrugged his shoulders, “Okay, but I guess I should mention that last time I was here, there was this creepy clown guy down there asking me if I wanted to play a game, or something.”</p>
<p>“What?” Lance felt his heart beat in his chest. Pennywise wasn’t real. That stupid movie wasn’t real. Steven King was just a messed up weirdo with a crazy imagination.</p>
<p>Keith burst out laughing, “I’m kidding.” He waved a hand in the air and Lance felt like all of the bones in his body suddenly became liquid. “I’m kidding, but you should have seen your face.”</p>
<p>Keith turned to Lance, his dazzling smile on his face, a bright twinkle in his eyes. Suddenly Lance’s bones felt like liquid for completely different reason.</p>
<p>“There’s a control room over there,” Keith popped a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to a room with a huge, dirty glass window along one wall. “I’ll be right back,” Keith said and jogged off, leaving Lance alone to catch his breath and put his bones back together.</p>
<p>There was a loud <em>CHUNK</em> noise and then row-by-row, the machines started to turn on. Colourful lights, dimmed by dust and age, flashed and, like an oncoming wave, the noise of over twenty machines playing and starting up at once, filled the otherwise empty building.</p>
<p>Keith jogged back, rocking back on his heels beside Lance. “Pretty cool, huh.”</p>
<p>“Totally cool,” Lance whispered, his voice almost reverent, his eyes full of reflected colour. Lance spotted an ancient Street Fighter game, feeling elation bubble up in his chest. “Play Street Fighter with me?” He asked as he turned to Keith, catching the soft, fond look Keith was sending him.</p>
<p>Keith shrugged, obviously trying to play it cool. “Sure. If you’re ready to get your ass kicked.”</p>
<p>“As if,” Lance scoffed. “You’d better get ready to get your ass kicked.”</p>
<p>“I’d like to see you try,” Keith quipped.</p>
<p>Lance narrowed his eyes playfully at Keith, and Keith narrowed his back, unable to really get rid of the smile on his face. They both took off for the game at the same time, an unspoken race started.</p>
<p>The race was tied.</p>
<p>And there wasn’t really a clear victor at Street Fighter either.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>90’s - eye circles, midnight drives to nowhere, falling in love recklessly, denim jackets, ripped pages in a diary, thinking about past lovers, listening to music until 3am, the dark phase of sunsets, mixtapes</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Lance wasn’t sure why he was awake, but he was even less sure of why someone was knocking frantically at his door at 3am. With a furrowed brow and a letter opener clutched tightly behind his back, Lance answered the door.</p>
<p>Whatever Lance was expecting sure as hell was not Keith standing in the yellow light of his porch light, his shoulders tense and heavy under his worn denim jacket, a sliver of blood from the scrape on his knee, pooling on the edge of his ripped jeans, deep circles under his eyes, so purple they almost looked like bruises, and tears barely held back by his eyelashes.</p>
<p>“Keith?” Lance dropped the letter opener on the small table next to the door, “What—are you okay?”</p>
<p>Keith opened his mouth, looking away, before he snapped it shut, looking away, jaw clenched against the tears that threatened to spill. “No,” Keith finally managed to force out, his voice choked.</p>
<p>“Do you want to come in?” Lance tried, his voice gentle, his eyebrows furrowed. Keith shook his head again, no. Lance sighed as he nodded. He glanced over Keith’s shoulder into the night; Keith didn’t bring his bike, so either he walked or he ran. Either way, Lance’s eyes landed on his own car—his beat up blue Pontiac with the pretty decent stereo—when inspiration hit.</p>
<p>“Do you want to go for a drive?” Lance asked, his eyes sliding to Keith.</p>
<p>The tense line of Keith’s shoulders didn’t relax, but his jaw unclenched and he nodded at Lance, his eyes glued to the wooden porch below him.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Lance nodded his head jerkily, the concerned furrow of his brow not smoothing, “Okay, let me just—” Lance shoved his feet into his sneakers, grabbing a jacket from the hook near the door, and his car keys that had been buried in the bowl on the front table.</p>
<p>Lance pushed his way out the door and onto the porch beside Keith, shrugging on the jacket—which turned out to be his older brother’s black windbreaker—while closing the door behind him. Lance went to reach out to Keith then, but thought better of it, shuffling down the steps and to his car, awkwardly.</p>
<p>Keith didn’t look Lance in the eye once, and Lance didn’t know what to do about that, so he just didn’t do anything. He just started the car, turned the volume of the radio down low, and let the voice of the indie singer croon her way into the tense air between them.</p>
<p>“Where do you want to go?” Lance finally asked, watching the road as he drove aimlessly.</p>
<p>Keith shrugged, “I don’t know,” he sighed and turned his head so he was looking out the passenger window instead of straight out the windshield, “Just…nowhere, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Lance said, another idea coming to him, “I can take you there.”</p>
<p>There used to be this spot, about a 20 minute drive out of town, basically straight up a mountain. It was always kind of a pain to get to, but there’s this outlook that overlooked the town. During the day it was a really shitty spot to sit; you could see every old, dusty, worn-down building in the place, but at night, it was perfect. Because it’s so far out of town, the stars could be seen crystal clear, dotting the sky in the most impressive, beautiful details you could imagine.</p>
<p>Naturally, it became pretty popular with teens and young adults alike, aptly named ‘Nowhere’.</p>
<p>And that was where they were headed. Nowhere.</p>
<p>When they turned onto the wandering road that goes up to Nowhere, Keith let out a little snort, “You’re taking me to Nowhere?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Lance shrugged, feeling a weight lift off his chest, glad that Keith’s smiling again. “You wanted to go nowhere, so…” Lance let out a nervous chuckle, “So, we’re going to Nowhere.”</p>
<p>Keith shakes his head, but the smallest smile is curling his lips, “That’s so cheesy.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but cheese is pretty good,” Lance quipped.</p>
<p>Lance watched Keith roll his eyes in his periphery, “I’m lactose intolerant,” Keith complained, but his voice was fond. Lance glanced over, trying to suppress a smile, before focusing back on the road.</p>
<p>They arrived at the cliff a short 15 minutes later. Lance parked the car beside the rails of the turn off, idling for a few minutes before he said, “Wanna get out? The view’s better out there.”</p>
<p>Keith was silent for a few beats, then, “Yeah,” he rasped out before unbuckling himself to climb out of the car.</p>
<p>They made their way over the safety rail and settled on the grassy part just before the edge, a million stars dotting the inky black sky. They sat in silence for a while, Lance not knowing what to say or do to make things better.</p>
<p>Finally, after what felt like forever, Keith sighed and said, “My boss kissed me.” He shook his head, the stars reflecting in his dark eyes. “The only reason I got that job was because he wanted me,” Keith looked over at Lance, his eyebrows pulled together, a deep crease keeping them apart. Keith shook his head and let out a humourless laugh, “And now I’m jobless and I feel like an object.”</p>
<p>Lance was at a loss; he didn’t know what to say—how to make things better—and he panicked and said, “I’m sorry,” and it just felt so inadequate.</p>
<p>“It’s not your fault, Lance,” Keith sighed then looked back up at the stars.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Lance said back, still a little panicky, “But that asshole isn’t going to apologize, and someone should.”</p>
<p>Keith closed his eyes then—maybe against the stars or maybe against something he heard in his head—and he pursed his lips, his eyebrows furrowing again. After a few moments Keith opened his eyes, only to shake his head. He sighed, “But it shouldn’t be you, Lance.”</p>
<p>And Lance didn’t know what to say to that, except<em> I’m sorry </em>again, so he didn’t say anything at all.</p>
<p>After a few moments—when it became clear that Lance wasn’t going to say anything—Keith pointed up at the sky ahead of them, “What’s that constellation again?”</p>
<p>Lance looked up, a million starts lighting up the sky, “Which one?”</p>
<p>“The one that looks like a really shitty W,” Keith said.</p>
<p>“That’s Cassiopeia,” Lance said. Keith nodded his head, still staring at the stars. Lance glanced back up, still troubled about his glaring inadequacy when it came to helping Keith. Lance let his eyes roam over the stars, cataloguing all the constellations he knew, when his eyes caught on the Andromeda galaxy. Suddenly he was struck with an idea.</p>
<p>“Hey, Keith, do you see the sharper V on the right side of Cassiopeia?” Lance leaned a little closer to Keith to help him see in the direction Lance was pointing.</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay, yeah, I see it,” Keith said, tilting his head a little bit.</p>
<p>“Okay, well if you follow that down to just before the constellation that looks like a big huge pair of stickmen legs, you can see the Andromeda galaxy,” Lance drew his finger down, covering the galaxy with the digit in his field of view.</p>
<p>“That kind of milky looking thing?” Keith leaned his head closer to Lance’s.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Lance chokes out, suddenly distracted by Keith’s nearness. He cleared his throat, trying to focus, “Well, um, okay, so that galaxy will collide with the Milky Way, one day.”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t sound too awesome,” Keith mumbled, finally just resting his head on Lance’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Lance cleared his throat again, a ball of something warm and pleased unfurling in his chest with Keith’s head on his shoulder. “It’ll really mess with gravitational fields and stuff when they collide. Like our solar system probably won’t have all our planets after the crash.”</p>
<p>“Sad,” Keith sighed, “People can’t even get over losing Pluto. Imagine what they’ll do when we loose all the planets.”</p>
<p>Lance rolled his eyes, unable to contain his smile, “We didn’t <em>lose</em> Pluto, we just demoted her.”</p>
<p>“Even worse,” Keith said dryly.</p>
<p>“Anyway, when the galaxies collide, no actual planets or stars will smash into each other,” Lance continued explaining, “The space between everything out there is just so vast that nothing will even touch.”</p>
<p>“That’s pretty cool,” Keith hummed.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Lance glanced down at Keith. Keith’s eyes were glued to the stars, their glittering bodies lighting up the darkest depths of his funny, purple irises. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say, is that, with a universe full of huge galaxies smashing together without even touching, and on a planet with, like, seven billion people, that shit-head, ugly, gross dude who used to be your boss doesn’t mean anything. And the fact that he hired you for a reason so shallow is really his loss, because you are worth so much more than just your pretty face.”</p>
<p>Lance was afraid to look at Keith. Afraid that Keith would be mad. That he’d take what Lance was trying to say wrong. That Lance would look like a creep, too. That Lance was being too geeky and that Keith would want nothing to do with him.</p>
<p>Instead, Keith pulled Lance’s chin so that he was looking at Keith, and, fuck, Keith was crying. His beautiful purple eyes shining with tears, his cheeks wet and red. Lance’s heart seized up, because, <em>fuck he really messed this up</em>.</p>
<p>But before Lance could really get panicking, Keith whispered, in the softest, happiest voice Lance had ever heard from him, “Thank you, Lance,” and Lance’s heart had melted.</p>
<p>“Thank you."</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>00’s - believing in magic, smiling at strangers, dreams of being someone, hearing an old song you used to like on the radio, birthday cards from friends who don’t talk to you anymore</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Lance was going through the mail as he toed off his shoes when he saw it: a pink envelope with his name on it. Lance set the other mail aside as confusion washed over him. Lance flipped over the envelope, hoping to find some sort of clue as to what it was. There was a return address on it from England…</p>
<p>Realization was a bucket of cold water upended over his head.</p>
<p>Allura had sent him a letter.</p>
<p>With shaking hands, Lance opened the envelope. Inside was a birthday card. It was adorable: a little kitty with a glittery party hat on. It was exactly the type of gaudy thing that Lance liked.</p>
<p>He opened it. Inside was a generic birthday message pre-printed on the inside. Then, written in Allura’s once-familiar handwriting was a short message:</p>
<p>
  <em>Sorry I don’t email more. You know how research is. I hope you’re doing well. Happy birthday, Lance.</em>
</p>
<p>She signed her name with a flourish and a little heart-shaped, scratch-and-sniff sticker.</p>
<p>Lance’s heart ached at the sight. He sat on the bench by the door and just took a second to breathe.</p>
<p>His birthday was two months ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>10’s - goodnight texts, fairy lights on the wall, flowers on eyelids, the view of a city from an apartment, feeling lonely on the train, sending a million hearts, feeling yourself changing for the better</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Lance curled his hand around Keith’s waist, laughing a little too loudly for the near silence of the park. Keith shushed him, but he was laughing too. Lance shushed him back, the two of them falling into uncontrollable giggles again.</p>
<p>“Lance,” Keith giggled, “We have to be quiet.” Keith tipped into Lance, causing Lance to let out a few new giggles of his own.</p>
<p>“Shh, shh,” Lance whispered through his giggles. “I’m being quiet.” Lance tripped, but this time Keith couldn’t catch him and they both went tumbling into the grass below them.</p>
<p>Lance laughed as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the night sky. The grass below him was soft and cool on his heated skin. It felt nice, and Lance could almost fall asleep right there if it wasn’t for Keith jabbing his elbow into his side.</p>
<p>“Hey!” Lance cried.</p>
<p>“Don’t fall asleep dumbass,” Keith said, his voice lacking any bite. “We have to get back home,” Keith dropped his head onto Lance’s chest and Lance automatically brought one of his hands up to hold Keith to him.</p>
<p>“The short-cut through the park might not have been such a short-cut after all,” Lance joked.</p>
<p>Keith rolled his eyes and let out a little huff. “Maybe if we had just taken an Uber like I said, we would be home by now.”</p>
<p>“Okay, yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to lay in some wet grass with you, now would I?” Lance teased as he absently drew shapes onto Keith’s back.</p>
<p>Keith huffed another laugh, “No, we’d be home in our warm bed.”</p>
<p>Lance blew a raspberry and Keith threw a handful of grass into Lance’s mouth.</p>
<p>“Dude!” Lance shrieked as Keith cackled. “In my mouth?!”</p>
<p>Keith kept laughing and Lance really had no choice but to join in, so they laid there on the ground, giggling at each other until they finally got up the energy and the brain cells to get up and stumble to the nearest train station. They giggled at each other under the harsh fluorescent lights of the underground as they paid for their tickets. They giggled at each other as they made their way to the platform. They giggled at each other all the way until the train blew into the station, screeching to a halt right in front of them.</p>
<p>They entered a car, empty and yellow-white. It was silent and neither of them could muster up a laugh, but neither of them could get rid of their smiles either. They sat next to each other, quiet under the silence of the night, their phones out texting each other.</p>
<p>Lance thought it was kind of funny, but didn’t laugh. Instead he sent a bunch of hearts to Keith, getting a million back.</p>
<p>And somehow, his heart felt full.</p>
<p>When they got to their stop, they stumbled out of the train and up the stairs and onto the street. They walked together, mumbling lowly to each other about things they probably wouldn’t remember tomorrow, could barely remember a second later. When they finally reached their apartment—their brand new apartment—it felt like they’d finally unlocked a seemingly impossible achievement.</p>
<p>Lance kicked off his shoes and dodged around a few boxes to get to the kitchen, needing a glass of water immediately. Keith continued straight into the mostly empty flat.</p>
<p>After sipping on his water, Lance peeked his head out of the kitchen to see Keith standing in front of the balcony door, the lights from the city below lighting up his face in shades of amber, pink and purple. Lance felt a fond smile curl over his face, knowing Keith hadn’t noticed him yet.</p>
<p>Lance tip-toed his way over to Keith, his arms snaking around Keith’s middle as he slotted his chin over Keith’s shoulder. Keith melted back into Lance and they stood there for a few moments, just watching the city bustle below them.</p>
<p>“What’re you thinking about?” Lance mumbled into Keith’s neck.</p>
<p>Keith shook his head lightly, before turning it to place a kiss on Lance’s lips. “I love you, Lance.”</p>
<p>Lance’s heart filled his chest, his smile lighting up the world as he said, “I love you, too, Keith.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading :) Follow me on Tumblr <a href="https://klancend.tumblr.com">here</a> for more Klance content. My main Tumblr is <a href="https://sunscreams.tumblr.com">here</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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